


Still the One

by ausfil



Category: Westlife
Genre: Blow Jobs, Boys In Love, Cute, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Post-Band, Sexual Content, Smut, Teasing, Touring, Yoga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 03:19:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15548457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ausfil/pseuds/ausfil
Summary: All Shane wants is to do some yoga before his show, but Nicky keeps distracting him.





	Still the One

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t think I’ve mentioned this on here before but I run an account on Instagram (@yourwhitesuit) where I post Westlife manips/edits! They’re mostly gay af, so if you enjoy the stories on the archive and slashy things, feel free to check it out! ([x](https://www.instagram.com/yourwhitesuit/))
> 
> Title and some inspo from Nicky Byrne's Still the One.

Nicky kind of wishes that he didn’t open this door. Because Shane’s back is curved like a carved sculpture, his arms straightened and pushing himself up, pelvis glued to the floor, eyes closed. Divine, like an art piece displayed at the most pretentious of museums. The tight t-shirt and gym shorts didn’t help either, teasing him with a view of muscles that were growing by the day.

Shane opens his eyes and looks up when Nicky clears his throat. Nicky smiles at him. Gets a sweet one back that has never failed to make him feel warm and fuzzy, even after almost twenty years together.

“Heya,” Nicky closes the door and settles down on the couch behind his husband, “doing yoga?”

“Yeah, just prepping.” Shane closes his eyes again and moves like water. He brings his bottom up, back still perfectly curved, arm stretched out in front and face down on the floor, and this is a delicious torture to watch. Nicky swallows hard.

He tries to stay quiet and let Shane focus. Shane always got mad at him when he distracted his stage preps, whether that was a skipping rope session or a yoga session. He didn’t get why – Shane would still probably sound like he devoured the CD with just a few vocal warmups. And when they used to share the stage years ago, a quickie backstage seemed like more than enough prep for the both of them.

He had started to take it a lot more seriously from his first solo tour, and now, four years later, three tours in, Nicky couldn’t be prouder of how far he’s come. Of how hard he works every day.

But when his favourite person is looking _that_ beautiful in delicate yoga poses, it’s hard to not kiss him and want him. He had to find something else to do rather than drool at this tantalising view. He looks around the dressing room and smirks when he notices the music in the background.

“You seriously listening to my album during yoga?”

“Nicky, I’m trying to focus. Shut up.” Shane still has his eyes closed. In the _zone,_ only if the blabbermouth knew what silence meant.

“Right. Sorry,” Nicky murmurs and purses his lips together for a bit. Listens as the song changes over to Still the One.

He remembers writing that on a warm morning in their backyard. Remembers the fresh smell of the early shine that cleansed his mind. A pen twirling in between his fingers. Shane snuggled up to his side with sleep-clumsy eyes trying to wake up and adjust to the sunlight, breathing softly against his shoulder, and Nicky knew in a heartbeat that he was more in love than he had ever been, that his entire world was held in those palpable breaths.

“Are you writing about me?” Shane had asked, eyes still half-closed and lost at a distance, his voice husky in the early hours. Nicky had just replied with a kiss to his forehead, had seen lips curve through an easy giggle.

Nicky smiles to himself as the music streams through his veins and hugs his heart.

“Why are you listening to my album?”

“I like your voice,” Shane ambles up and brings his arms up with a calm exhale. Nicky tries not to stare and admire. Fails horribly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Of course I do. Now shush.” Shane’s zen yoga voice starts to change, a bit more edge to it with the distractions, and Nicky has to hold back a laugh.

Nicky watches in silence. Watches Shane take a few deep breaths through stretches, but then Shane kneels back down and is on all fours again, the smooth arc of his back making him gulp, and Jesus _Christ_ , this had to be some sort of trap.

A trap that Nicky would step into in half a heartbeat. A trap that seems like the perfect timing for a bit of fun. He just wants to see the man’s reaction. It’s all innocent. Very innocent.

He bites down on a smirk and extends his leg, runs the tip of his boots along Shane’s crotch beneath the fabric.

“Nicky!” Shane flinches and looks back with a slight glare, and that may just be the cutest thing he’d ever seen. He tries to beat the threatening smile, but it seeps out anyway, and Shane eyes sharpen even more. “Stop. It’s not funny.”

“You’re right. It’s not funny at all. Sorry.”

Shane rolls his eyes at the childish mirth dancing all over Nicky’s face. “If you’re bored, go do something else. I need to get myself ready.”

“But you’re pretty.” Nicky gets up to sit beside his husband on the floor. Shane stares at him for a second, then deflates through a silly laugh and a shake of his head. “Come on,” he shuffles closer, and Shane does too subconsciously, like magnets. “Set yoga aside for a sec.”

“I really have to.” Shane nuzzles his cheek in Nicky’s palm when he cups it, tilting to kiss it.

“You’ll sound brilliant either way.” Nicky leans in, and Shane deflates even more.

“It’s not all about that. It’s about a headspace.” Shane tries to pull back. Nicky won’t let that happen.

“You know what other headspace would help?” He runs a finger along the waistband of Shane’s shorts.

“Babe, I-“ the words stop when Nicky ducks down to kiss his neck. The spot that he knew emptied Shane’s brain and filled it with red blooming flowers. The moan that meant Nicky won. Not that it’s a competition, but he fucking won. “God,” Shane sighs, lets his eyes slide shut, and places his hand on the back of Nicky’s head, “you’re such a little shit. I hate you.”

“Love you too,” Nicky’s lips trail up to his, a soft caress that gradually gets deeper, heavier, more liberating. Teasing fingers return to his shorts waistband.

Okay. Yoga can go fuck itself.

Shane cups his husband’s jaw, pulls him closer while he feels the hand on his waistband trail over its thin fabric, smoothing over an impulsive stiffening flesh that craved as much as it did when they were twenty.

Then the hand leaves him hanging. Nicky pulls down his jeans to his knees, awkwardly flapping on the floor, and Shane smirks, a distinctive snap in his eyes. There it is. Yoga definitely could not give him that effect. Shane leans forward and lies down on his stomach, supports himself on his elbows, and pulls down Nicky’s boxers too.

Shane looks up into his eyes as a finger runs up his shaft. He shivers. Whether that was because of the cheeky fire in Shane’s eyes or the sensation that violently shot up his brain, he didn’t know.

He can’t stress how beautiful Shane looks right now, eyes studying his face as he flicks his tongue against the most sensitive skin. And when a familiar mouth engulfs the head of his cock, Nicky doesn’t think he can ever find the words to encapsulate the divinity. Never in a hundred years.

And it feels new every time too. He’s always surprised. Always almost exploding because of something that he has felt for two whole decades; a love that burnt in beginner’s passion to something that eased down to a perpetual, an evergreen melting of their hearts; the calm blue flame.

Nicky tries to bite off his moans, in case there are people in the corridors, but _fuck_ , Shane sure knew how to make his mind wash itself white. He moans into his hand instead, hoping it would muffle the noises that don’t seem to want to stay inside, but also hoping he could hear the noises of Shane’s mouth better. That slobbering wet noise every time Shane bobs down on his straining length. The occasional moans that vibrates way beyond the first veneer of his skin.

“I’m gonna come,” Nicky pants through a heaving chest, and Shane just taps his thigh. An okay message. Just a few more sucks, flexes of Shane’s tongue, intense strangling stares from his eyes, and Nicky is pushed off the bridge with a howl into his palm. “Fuckin’ hell,” he breathes, not taking his eye off of Shane, white viscous liquid decorating a wet chin, a slight daze in his hazels, and yes, he was definitely still the one. “Remember that headspace I talked about?”

Shane nods, a shy bite down on his lips, and when Nicky brushes his fingers lightly across the tent in those shorts, Shane jolts. He’s always so sensitive, and Nicky can’t help but tease him all the time, just to see that eviscerating hunger shine through eyes he would bleed himself for.

“Want it?" Nicky whispers with another brush.

“Please,” Shane whispers back with another jolt and a whimper.

Nicky grants him a bit more pressure. Presses his fingers into the faint outline of Shane’s balls and relishes the almost tearful moan that strings out. He slithers up slowly, tentatively. Up. Up. Up towards the waistband. He hears Shane’s breath race faster and chase itself, and–

 _Knock knock_.

“Not now!” Shane calls.

“Now! Hair and makeup need you in.” Liam spoke from the other side of the door. “I said _now_ , okay?” They hear footsteps lead further away down the corridor, and Shane groans.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to finish later.” Nicky pulls back, and is kind of satisfied. Because Shane is panting in desperation, and he can’t wait to see him on stage in this pernicious state.

“What, and leave me like this?” Shane gestures at the unresolved issue.

“I told you it’ll be an amazing headspace.” Nicky yanks his pants back up, and Shane is staring at him with earnest eyes begging. He leans forward and presses a kiss on trembling lips. “It’ll be fun watching you up there,” he whispers, “knowing that all you’re thinking about is what I’ll do to you after.”

Shane lets out a low growl. “What are you going to do to me?”

“Life’s all about surprises, love.” He presses another kiss, but pulls back before Shane can latch on. “Now, come on. Hair and makeup.”

Shane rolls his eyes with a smile and gets up to change into jeans. Pulls a coat over himself to hide the mischief going on down there.


End file.
